this angel has lost her wings (i'm building a monster)
by Kolbie Ru-Ru
Summary: She's eighteen and four months when a man flags her down on her bike with an excited grin and aspirations in his eyes. He's got slicked back hair and a crooked smile and grand ideas for her. "Hey, kid, you ever thought about doing stunts on that beauty?" [Sakura-reborn-as-Skull fic. Reincarnation. Genderfluid Skull. No Pairings. Chapters Posted: 2/4]
1. Chapter 1

**Notes: The title is from "Building A Monster" by Skylar Grey.  
**

* * *

 **01.**

She is ten years old when the memories return, now a boy with a plain name born into a plain family, utterly civilian and unremarkable, and she understands why she has never felt like she belonged. She comes from a world of magic and wonder, heroes and villains, death and destruction, and there is nothing for her here.

Even so, she lives.

She doesn't accept the name they give her, has never liked how it rolls so disdainfully off her mother's tongue, loathes how common and unoriginal it is. At ten and three months, she chooses her own name, whimsically and impulsively, makes it ridiculous and morbid and one people will undoubtedly remember. Skull DeMort.

Her mother hates it, and her father assures her it is simply a phase and that it will pass. It doesn't. She absolutely refuses to answer to anything else, not even when her father lectures and her mother screams and all her toys are taken away. It's a battle, the first of many, and she won't lose. Eventually, they give up. Eventually, they always give up.

Skull grins to herself as her mother grits her teeth and calls her by her new name. The venom underlying her tone only makes the victory sweeter.

Her mother is weak-willed and dainty, disapproving and haughty, forever disappointed in her son who likes make up and flashy clothes and jewelry and not 'manly' things. As if these things have gender. As if Skull even cares about this world's limited and obtuse view of gender roles. She is a woman in a man's body, and this has never bothered her. She is a medic and field ninja, a professional and a warrior, and such concerns are trivial at best.

Skull delights in the unpleasant expression her mother makes when she catches Skull applying eyeliner in the bathroom mirror. She cackles inwardly when her mother gasps oh so dramatically when she spots Skull bedazzling her entire wardrobe. She winks and waves cheerfully when her mother walks in on her kissing another boy.

It's childish and petty, but Skull spent years trying to be something she was not, chased after a boy who - while he ended up being one of her closest friends - never looked at her and saw anything of worth, not until she worked and trained and clawed her way to the top, made herself the best and learned self love and confidence. She knows better now. She won't settle for anything less than she deserves, and she deserves more than this world can offer.

She does not settle. She bides her time. She waits. She works part-time jobs, baby-sits, saves money from her allowance, and when she is sixteen, she packs up her things and leaves. The world is at her fingertips. All she must do is reach out and grab it.

-o-

There is chakra within her. She can find no trace of it anywhere else. She tests out a henge when she is eleven, curious and hopeful, and the expended chakra does not disperse into the air as she expects - it returns to its original source inside her, as if she had never used it in the first place. She works herself to the brink of exhaustion, tries out as many jutsu as she can without destroying her backyard or drawing unwanted attention, and she realizes a few things.

As far as she can tell, her chakra will forever replenish itself. She is the only living organism in this world that can hold and withstand chakra, and so it will always return to her. However, she can still suffer from the symptoms of chakra exhaustion, despite not running out, and she can overwork her coils with too much use too fast.

The drawbacks are more than worth the benefits, and she spends her second childhood testing her limits, perfecting her already perfect chakra control, and mastering her arsenal of jutsu.

When she leaves home, she makes full use of her abilities to obtain this world's currency, which she spends on transportation, necessities, and sleeping arrangements. Illusions make her appear older or younger when need be, change her face and voice, make it easy to slip past borders and security and police. She visits museums and landmarks and monuments, amusement parks and circuses and concerts, libraries and cafes and flower shops. She watches movies and plays and musicals. She listens to music and sings and dances. She trains and teaches herself new languages and never stops for anyone or anything.

-o-

She is seventeen when she first rides a motorcycle. She falls in love with the speed and the danger and the sleek, sharp design. She buys one and flies as fast as it will take her, laughs wildly as the wind whips past her face and the world passes by in a blur. Finally, finally, something exciting.

-o-

Sakura Haruno was pink and pretty, soft and petite - until she wasn't. She cried a little too easily, wore her heart on her sleeve, and always, always overlooked the important things - until she didn't. She was strong and intelligent and gave as good as she got, and truthfully, she shouldn't have died so young. But she does not regret it. The same strike that took her life saved her teammate. She could never regret it.

She dyes her hair purple - because it is a dull brown and the new color reminds her fondly of an old friend. She gets piercings and wears makeup, dresses in flashy, bold colors, and when she is eighteen, she gets a teardrop tattoo beneath her right eye. Not for this society's meaning, even though it's hardly untrue. She uses it as a Yin Seal, a mark of her prowess as a kunoichi, of her perfect chakra control. Its shape is a symbol of the tears she won't let herself cry, not anymore. Its placement is a testament to her unique situation. No longer in the middle of her forehead, its moved further down and a little to the right. It may look different and have changed location, but much like her, it's still exactly what it is meant to be.

She barely resembles the plain, defiant boy she used to be nor the fierce, dependable woman she was when she died. No, she's a mix between the two, something different and better, and she thinks that maybe her boys would be proud of her. She's under no one's thumb, goes wherever her feet take her, and she's stronger than she's ever been.

-o-

She's eighteen and four months when a man flags her down on her bike with an excited grin and aspirations in his eyes. He's got slicked back hair and a crooked smile and grand ideas for her.

"Hey, kid, you ever thought about doing stunts on that beauty?"

She hasn't, but he paints an interesting picture of the kind of life she's been craving. She goes with him and meets other stuntmen and women, observes their acts and shows, and knows right away this is something she wants to do.

She signs a contract with him - but not before negotiating better terms with a smile that shows too many teeth and promises pain. She trains under older and more experienced stuntmen for a year, and she takes to it like a fish to water. Her boss - the man who 'discovered' her - simply smirks and shows her her new schedule and gear when she finishes her training well ahead of schedule. Neither of them are surprised.

She gets her own show, an entire venue to herself, and the first night, she 'survives' a fall that would have killed any average person. On top of her other daring and death defying stunts, the show is a success. On the second night, the tickets are sold out, the seats are full, and she laughs even as the audience gasps in horror and then showers her with applause.

She keeps upping the danger and difficulty, and fans come from all over the world to see her perform. _The Immortal Skull_ , they call her. _The man hated by the grim reaper himself._ Maybe she is. She was supposed to be dead, after all, and yet she is instead alive in another world entirely.

She thrives on the excitement and adrenaline and deceit - no one knows she's sticking to the seat and handles by imbuing her hands with chakra or that she's landing without a scratch by utilizing barely visible wind currents. Using chakra in subtle and creative ways is another training method, and she enjoys the precision and skill it requires. She has perfect chakra control. Why should she not use it?

-o-

She is not lonely. She has friends who work behind the scenes, men and women who build the stages and set the lights and operate the sound booth. Friends who apply her makeup and create her gear and patch her up whenever she gets careless. Friends who also perform stunts, those who trained her and others she meets on the road. They go to theaters and bars and parks together.

She goes on dates with men and perhaps not so surprisingly, women. She had gotten looks as a woman herself, but she had intimidated civilians and shinobi alike. And she had been so stuck on her teammate for so long that any advances she had gotten had been ignored or dismissed, so this? This is new.

Skull DeMort is attractive, stupidly so, and she is well on her way to becoming a household name, even though the notion makes the kunoichi in her twitch. She gets many offers, and with the same curiosity she has allowed to take her around the country, she accepts some of them and takes pleasure in exploring her sexuality in a way she never would have considered before. She's not interested in serious relationships, and she makes this clear right away. The romance obsessed little girl in her cries out, but Skull wants nothing less than a repeat of the romantic drama of her last life.

She has fun and learns new things about herself. Since she woke up a little boy in a foreign world, she feels like she is always learning new things about herself. It's... good.

-o-

She is nineteen and nine months when she discovers there is another energy inside her, one that is not linked to her chakra at all, and it happens entirely by accident.

She is walking out of a cute, little cafe and towards her bike when some fans stop her and politely, eagerly ask for pictures and autographs. Amused, she obliges, posing goofily and then adopting a serious expression that makes one of them giggle and the other blush. She spends a few minutes answering questions and just generally chatting with them, and then she allows them hugs before parting ways.

She hooks a leg over her bike and reaches for her helmet as she gets comfortable on the seat. That's when she hears the muffled screams. Startled, she glances around, experienced eyes taking in and dismissing her surroundings until she lands on the three men dragging the girls she'd just spoken with into an alleyway.

She explodes into action, and before she knows it, the men are all unconscious on the ground and the girls are clutching each other and sobbing. She wonders why they hadn't run away, and then she realizes that in reality it's only been a few seconds. Another thing she realizes is that she's on fire.

She is still in her battle mindset, and so she does not panic. Instead, she calmly notes that neither she nor the men nor girls had used or initiated the fire, and there isn't anything in the alley that could have created them.

The fire is purple, and it doesn't burn. It's not even giving off heat, and now that she's focusing, she can feel that it's tugging at her in much the same way her chakra does. But - and this is strange - it's not chakra. There is no chakra in any part of the flames.

She takes a deep breath and lets the anger fade. The flames flicker, but they don't die. They recede into her body, curling up and resting right next to her chakra core, and she's surprised by how familiar they feel. She tries to call them up again, but they don't react. Another try and still nothing. Hmm.

She tucks that away for later, intrigued, and turns toward the frightened girls. She crouches in front of them, soothing smile in place and body language radiating comfort and support. She's well versed in proper bedside manner and dealing with civilian patients and clients.

"You're safe now," she says, reassuringly.

But they're clearly terrified, likely going over the what-ifs and maybes. She doesn't blame them. So she puts them to sleep with a genjutsu and then implants an illusion in their minds that overwrites this attack, a memory of their earlier conversation taking longer to cover the gap in time.

She's found that since her unsuspecting victims have no chakra to push back against hers even on a cellular level, she can plant false memories such as that one, and the mind has no way of knowing the difference. It's a heady ability and one that would never work back in her world. Genjutsu this strong would require constant maintenance, even if it was years apart. That being said...

They don't have chakra, but there just might be some other energy or special power in its place. Because she didn't have purple flames like that before arriving here, and she's sure it has more to do with the body she's in than her soul. She knows it.

-o-

She spends much of her free time attempting to manipulate that ball of fire in her core, almost-but-not-quite frustrated that her perfect control doesn't extend to this - whatever 'this' is.

She's forgotten how to be patient and how to problem solve. She's sure her old sensei would cheerfully and obnoxiously point out this flaw while her old shishou would run her into the ground for forgetting something so basic. She contemplates the idea wistfully.

Still, it's never too late to relearn lessons, and she supposes she should be grateful it wasn't over something dire. She doesn't particularly fancy the idea of dying a second time, especially not so soon.

She goes back to the fundamentals, recalling the training she received while in the Academy and Shishou's drilled in knowledge during the two years her team spent apart.

Meditating is a simple first step. This at least she has not forgotten. She sits legs crossed and arms relaxed, lets her mind clear and the outside world fade away. She locates the warmth at her core and merely studies it for a while, the minute differences between it and her chakra, the few likenesses, and she eventually concludes that these flames are akin to her life energy.

Her chakra is a power source, a reinforcement, a mix of spiritual and physical energy, but it is not sustaining her life. She carefully notes that the flames are naturally coating her organs, bones, and veins - and even her chakra pathways, protecting them in the way her chakra would do only upon command or should the areas suffer any damage.

There are no pathways for the flames to travel - unless of course her chakra pathways were originally designed for their use, but she doesn't think so. Her gut tells her there's a different explanation. Perhaps it has to do with why the fire was visible outside of her body? Maybe it instinctively moves through her pores - much like sweat - and coats her outer body as a defensive measure. It's as good as guess as any, so she makes a mental note of it.

She also jots it down in one of her many journals. She's gotten complacent, and she doesn't like it one bit. She even had trouble recalling her chakra control exercises at first, which is completely unacceptable, so she buys tons of journals and writes down everything she can remember - jutsu, hand signs, regulations and rules, people, places, and personal accounts of her last life.

It hurts, but it also soothes a large part of her that had been terrified she would reach for faces and names and find nothing. Instead, she finds her mom and dad. She finds Naruto and Sasuke and Kakashi-sensei and Tsunade-shishou and Shizune-senpai and Ino and Hinata and TenTen and Lee and Neji and Kiba and Akamaru and Shino and Shikamaru and Chouji. She finds years of missions and campfires and team training and girls' nights and hospital shifts and bar romps. She finds Sakura Haruno and fits her life onto as many pages as it takes. It's painful and cathartic, and she doesn't cry, but she wants to.

She doesn't remember everything, but she remembers enough. She remembers what matters, and that will always be enough.

-o-

She is twenty when a child with a fatal illness makes a last request - to meet Skull DeMort. An organization reaches out to her, the media blows up, and there was never a chance she would say no.

She has avoided hospitals and clinics for the last ten years, unconsciously, knowing all too well that she would never be able to break away completely should she step inside one. She is not weak, but she is susceptible to the pain of others, especially children and the elderly. She can help, after all. She can heal. She does not want to return to endless shifts and paperwork and coffee addictions, the knowledge that she can't save everyone. She is not weak, but she is not strong enough to bear that. She is not strong enough to leave.

The child is twelve years old, tiny and sickly, and he screams in delight when Skull steps into his room. "Skull! Oh my god, it's you!"

She has met children before, little kids and teenagers awed by her stunts and devil-may-care attitude and easily impressed by her showmanship. This boy does not want or need her to be calm and comforting. He wants Skull DeMort, brave and fearless stuntman, and that's what she gives him.

"The one and only!" She boasts, expression cocky, posture confident. "The amazing and incredible Skull has decided to grace you with his presence!" She smirks down at him, winking. "You must be pretty special, huh?"

He nods eagerly, and she laughs.

The rest of the visit is spent with her answering as many questions as the boy can think to ask her, which is quite a lot. She performs as expected, and she manages to make him giggle too many times to count. She signs a black and purple hat with The Immortal Skull stitched across it in bold, thick letters, as well as a few posters with her face on it, and she poses for a bunch of photos.

"You're a good kid," she says, hugging him tightly even as she plots. "I'm glad I met you."

She sneaks in later that night and uses her own diagnostic jutsu on him, and she is so, so relieved when she realizes it's an illness she can treat. She had been prepared for much worse, for creating her own cure or treatment, but it seems she doesn't have to. This is easily treatable in any shinobi hospital and is only ever a problem when the patient in question either doesn't discover the illness in time or has no access to a med-nin.

This boy has her, and she gets to work. She cleanses his system of the infected cells and repairs his damaged organs, which takes a few hours, and afterwards, she leaves without leaving any indication she'd been there.

She hears about his miraculous recovery a few days later, and she doesn't have to fake the wide grin that forms on her face at the news.

After that, she visits other kids with the same illness, the ones doctors all over have given up on, and she gives them the same treatment. She doesn't dedicate her life to it, and she doesn't track down patients or hospitals. She sneaks in when she can, when she's nearby, when she walks aimlessly and her feet take her there, and this much is okay.

No one can figure out how these kids are making full recoveries, and it sparks new fervor and research into a cure. Maybe she doesn't have to save everyone. Maybe they will save themselves. This much is more than okay. She's not a hero, and she's not a doctor. She's a shinobi, and there's really nothing more to say.

-o-

She is twenty and seven months when she gets a summons to a stunt job, and the whole thing strikes her as suspicious. She's gotten job offers before, but she runs her own show and has for years. Also, the letter is just that - a summons. It reminds her strangely of mission scrolls, and that makes her wary.

The location is some cabin in the middle of nowhere, and she doesn't recognize the intricate design of the wax seal on the envelope. She knows it's rare to send letters what with the advancement in this world's communications and technology. She has her own personal cellphone and phone number, which this mysterious employer quite easily could have gotten a hold of, and she could have declined. As it is, there's no return address and no way to contact the sender.

Still, she is curious, and while it's always good to be cautious and aware of her own mortality, she's confident in her abilities and intuition. So she's going, then - but not without taking extra precautions.

She hides weapons all over her body, thankfully easy enough with her full body stunt gear. She wears specialized gloves, meant to withstand her powerful punches, and reinforced boots. She fastens a pouch to her thigh that contains a med-kit, rations, and water. She brings her phone and combination watch and compass. She researches the area, the terrain, the weather, the locals. It really is just a dusty old cabin cut off from just about everything. So, so suspicious.

The day arrives, and she is ready.

 _(She was not ready for this.)_

* * *

 **End Notes: I wrote this in one sitting relying solely on my memory of both series, so there are probably mistakes regarding both canons. I think DeMort as Skull's last name is purely fanon, likely because of the various Harry-is-Skull fics, but it's not like I had a better one.**

 **Regardless, this was a fun exercise, and there might be more if anyone's interested?**

 **Edit: I changed a section in the middle and added a few sentences. Aisyah suggested Skull's teardrop tattoo function as a Yin Seal, and since the idea was utterly brilliant, I had to add it in. Thank you for the awesome suggestion!**


	2. Chapter 2

**02.**

He arrives three hours before the designated meeting time.

As a wet-behind-the-ears genin, his sensei's bad habit of being late to almost everything had frustrated him to no end, but it had also taught him patience. Later, missions hammered it in. Be still. Be silent. Wait for an opportunity and then spring into action.

Impatience only worked for Naruto, who was skilled and unpredictable enough to power through his opposition - or able to befuddle them with his kindness and then turn them to his side with just a few inspiring words. Skull doesn't have the charisma or inclination to befriend anyone trying to kill or otherwise harm him and no one to back him up if he tried.

He doesn't regret his self-imposed solitude, is in fact the happiest he's ever been, but if there's one thing he misses about his old life, it's the knowledge that he always had someone he trusted without question to watch his back and someone he would in turn give his life to protect.

He doesn't have anyone like that anymore, so he'll just have to watch his own back.

Not that he needs anyone else. Far gone are the days where he cried about his uselessness while others got hurt time and again protecting him. He's strong, and he's capable, and he is no one's damsel in distress.

-o-

Silently, he creates several clones and has them comb the forest and surrounding area for traps, enemies, or anything suspicious.

Absently, he tugs his glove down, securing it more tightly around his hand.

It's not that he's thirsting for a fight, exactly, but it's been over a decade since he regained his memories. Not once has he been able to let loose or even work up a sweat in the few times he's engaged in combat, and he's restless. Itching to measure his strength and abilities against a worthy opponent.

This shady job, those purple flames - every inch of him is absolutely convinced that this world has more to offer, that his initial assessment was wrong, and he's... excited by the possibilities. Not afraid - because he hasn't felt truly afraid since his first life, and that was fear for his friend's lives.

He is cautiously hopeful, warily interested, and when his clones report nothing unusual save a young woman sipping tea in the cabin, he disperses them and walks right into whatever this is - a trap or a new world or both.

-o-

He glides through the house like a ghost, like a ninja, making no sound, no unnecessary movement. Shinobi are most at home in the shadows - in darkness - and although he and his comrades had been unconventional in just about every sense, this is still true of him.

There is no folly on Skull's part, no misstep. He has even used his chakra to hide the fire ever burning inside him in the slim chance it might be related. He has slowed his breathing. Logically, there should be no reason the woman would notice his presence the moment he steps into the room.

Yet she does.

Despite himself, Skull is intrigued.

"Skull DeMort," the woman says, calmly, warmly. "I've been expecting you." She takes a sip of her tea. Her words and facial structure reveal her Italian blood.

She is not a civilian, but she is also no fighter. There are no callouses on her hands, she doesn't tense in preparation for a fight, she has no visible weapons, and she's exuding a gentle demeanor, harmlessness. A myriad of other details only serve to highlight her lack of battle prowess.

But she's world weary, older than her physical appearance, and undoubtedly a leader of some kind. A military leader, Skull thinks. Likely a private one. Perhaps illegal.

 _Dangerous,_ his instincts warn him. _Do not underestimate._

 _This is what you wanted,_ a voice reminds him dryly. _Don't fuck it up._

He can't help the flicker of anticipation in his chest, but he remains vigilant and cautious nonetheless.

He shifts into the light, leaning his back against the wall and putting his hands in his pockets. A deceptively lax pose adopted from his sensei, who was a master at fooling others into underestimating him, even - or especially - those who knew of him and his deadly reputation.

He's on guard, ready to attack at a moment's notice, but he looks relaxed and at ease. The woman meets his gaze readily and smiles at him.

"My name is Luce, and I'm the boss of the Giglio Nero Famiglia," she introduces herself, eyes soft and welcoming.

Skull immediately feels a pull towards this woman, who is gentle and motherly and warm. It makes him uneasy and sets off a million warning bells in his mind. He was taught to be suspicious of such things - anything that inexplicably made him feel safe and peaceful. It's usually a sign of a weak genjutsu or else some other enemy technique, and it sets him on edge.

He doesn't trust this woman, but the pull makes him want to. It's more than a little unsettling.

"What do you want?" Skull asks, making no mention of the off-putting feeling. He doesn't want to tip off his possible enemy.

"No need to be so worried, Skull," Luce says in reply, placing her cup on the table. "Or perhaps," she adds, switching seamlessly to Japanese, "I should refer to you as Haruno Sakura."

At Skull's visible shock, Luce tells him serenely, "As I said, we've much to discuss."

-o-

The others trickle in at various times, and Skull, quite comfortable in his chair, idly sipping his tea and reheating it every once in a while, is still musing over everything Luce had divulged.

Which, granted, had not been much at all. But she knew enough. And she'd been quite happy to explain the curious purple fire - Dying Will Flames, Cloud Flames - and the world in which such power was coveted and jealously guarded.

The Mafia. Heh. He'd heard civilians' accounts of the criminal organization, but much like this world's military, he'd assumed they were just as civilian and powerless.

If only Tsunade-shishou could see him now. She'd definitely make Sakura-now-Skull regret making such a rookie mistake.

Skull mentally berates himself for her and vows never to underestimate this world again. Clearly, there is more than meets the eye here, and honestly, by now, shouldn't he _know_ that?

Kakashi-sensei had only drilled it into their heads - sometimes literally - over a thousand times. Look underneath the underneath. And then _keep looking_. Rarely is anything exactly as it seems.

Skull takes the lesson to heart, again, and moves onto another troubling topic.

Even without digging further, he can tell Luce is hiding something. Granted, with her Sight, she's likely always hiding things, and as such, maybe she is simply evasive and frustratingly vague by nature.

In that vein, one can conclude Skull is an excellent stuntman and nothing more.

He doesn't trust her, and he's sure he's missing some valuable piece of information she declined to share with him regarding Dying Will Flames. For instance, she'd been happy to go in depth when it came to every Flame but her own.

Once he's done here, the first thing on his agenda is compiling as much information about Flames, the Mafia, and the Giglio Nero famiglia in particular as he can.

Being a shinobi, that's quite a lot.

-o-

Once the Strongest Seven - save Luce - fill the room, Skull begins to actively take notice of them. Luce had given him descriptions of his counterparts, but like everything that comes out of that woman's mouth, they were succinct and barely enough to go on.

Even so, he is able to identify them. Naruto's descriptions - in mission reports or otherwise - had always been much more confusing and pointlessly dramatic, and Sasuke had taken to using the fewest words possible to get his point across, verbally and non-verbally. Worse than both of them, Kakashi-sensei had a way of only ever giving away what he wanted you to know and nothing else. Comparatively, Luce is an open book.

The other five members in this room aren't much better.

Near the head of the table is a man in an expensive suit waiting impatiently in one of the overly ornate chairs. Most of his expression is shadowed by his hat, but Skull can read his arrogance from every line of his body. He believes he has nothing to fear from the people in this room, despite their titles as the Strongest.

Luce mentioned he was considered the World's Best Hitman, and there's no doubt he's earned the reputation, as much as the man's personality already vexes him.

Without him saying a word, it's easy to tell Reborn is much like Sasuke at his worst. Luce confirmed as much.

Skull's really not looking forward to butting heads with that one.

Across from Reborn is a woman, Lal Mirch, decked out in a military uniform. She's apparently a part of COMSUBIN, an Italian military force that specializes in combat as well as traps and guns, as an instructor, which likely speaks of her own combat prowess. Skull likens her role to that of a jounin-sensei.

Luce said she was strict and prone to anger, but her competency in battle and intelligence more than made up for it. Skull believes that easily enough. Lal Mirch has the bearing of a woman forced to prove her worth time and again as she kicked ass and worked her way through the military, and well, Skull has a soft spot for badass ladies.

Skull's own supposed lack of combat experience might be an issue for her in that case. There's only two women out of seven total people here (which irks Skull to no end, and he can't imagine Lal is any different if he's reading her right), and yet one of the men is no more than a stuntman? He'd understand her righteous anger. However, he's confident he can put her concerns to rest with a display of strength. Perhaps even Tsunade-shishou's favored method - sending someone flying with only her pinky finger.

Regardless, Skull pulls a Naruto and makes it his personal mission to befriend Lal Mirch whatever it takes.

Further down from Reborn is another man in a lab coat and glasses. His wild green hair is the most noticeable thing about him - if one ignores the fact that he's been muttering to himself and going through notebook paper at an alarming rate since he got here. Skull recognizes that look on his face, though. Members of the Konoha Cryptanalaysis Team had sported similar expressions when they finally found the key word or meaning that would lead them to cracking a particularly tough code.

Luce explained he was a scientist and inventor, someone who only seemed to care about his experiments and would not hesitate to fight anyone who got in the way of them. On the other hand, he apparently always repays his debts.

As long as Verde's experiments never involve Skull, it looks like they won't have any problems, which is a relief. He could probably pick Verde's brain for ideas on new equipment and hopefully recreating a few things from Skull's past life, such as weapons that properly channel chakra or soldier pills that work with Dying Will Flames. Perhaps even ways of combining his Cloud Flames and his chakra.

Right across from Verde is a cloaked figure without any truly identifiable features, who must be Viper, the illusionist. They supposedly only care about money and charge high prices for their services, whatever those happen to be. They're apathetic to pretty much everything else.

Luce told him illusions created by Mist Flames were different from your run of the mill genjutsu. For one, expert illusionists like Viper have the ability to make their illusions real, and no amount of pain or flooding one's body with Flames will get rid of them. The only surefire way of getting out of them is by beating the illusionist.

When asked whether Viper would notice the difference between genjutsu and Mist illusions or whether they would be able to dismiss or see through genjutsu, Luce had once again been annoyingly ambiguous.

Regardless, Skull has plenty of money to spend, and using it to figure out those differences himself or at least to hear it from an expert wouldn't be a bad idea at all. Something to think about later.

Leaning against the wall is Fon, a Chinese martial artist and member of the Chinese Triads, covered head to toe in the color red. He is said to know over a hundred martial arts styles, and Luce had characterized him as a calm and fair person.

He's watching the room with a polite smile, and for some reason, Skull is reminded of Genma. Perhaps it's the easy-going, will-smile-through-anything, can-kick-your-ass-without-breaking-a-sweat aura the young man gives off.

In any case, Skull predicts the two of them will get along. Skull himself is outgoing and friendly, and while many see that as a weakness, well, he's quite used to using people's preconceptions against them. As he's gotten older, the initial sting has faded, and now, he takes quite a lot of joy in making his enemies underestimate him.

The utter shock on their faces when he pounds them into the ground never gets old.

-o-

"Sorry I'm late, everyone," Luce says apologetically as she enters the room, and all eyes turn to her. Taking a seat at the head of the table, she gives them a kind, beaming smile and continues, "I'm sure you're all excited to hear the more in depth explanation your letters mentioned, but first, why don't we all introduce ourselves? My name is Luce, and I'm the boss of the Giglio Nero Famiglia."

She looks encouragingly at Reborn, who seems a little unsettled by the brightness of her smile.

"Reborn, the World's Best Hitman," he says, as if everyone in the room should already know - and as if he's questioning the intelligence of anyone who doesn't.

It grates on Skull's nerves. _Exactly_ like Asshole Sasuke.

"Verde, scientist," the man tells them, distractedly, peering down at his latest notes with serious concentration.

"Lal Mirch, combat specialist in COMSUBIN." Even her voice is harsh and no-nonsense. Looks like she doesn't really care for this silly meet and greet. He doesn't blame her.

"My name is Fon. It's nice to meet you." He gives another polite - but sincere - smile at the glances that gets and doesn't divulge any more.

It doesn't really sit right with Skull either, this information being so freely given. What if they turn out to be enemies? What if someone decides to use the information against them? Even something like their specialty is too much, in his opinion.

Then again, he comes from a world where information is heavily regulated and secrets getting out could cost someone their life or worse, the safety of their clan or village. Things are a little different here, even if he suspects the Mafia of being much the same. Knowledge of Dying Will Flames is hardly common place after all, even if (like chakra) every single person has the ability to use them.

Perhaps they're just confident in their abilities. Being called the World's Strongest certainly wouldn't help their egos.

"Viper, an illusionist. Any more will cost you," they reluctantly reveal, caving under Luce's expectant yet kind eyes. Skull stifles his amusement.

As if reading his mind, Luce gives him a knowing look, and he inwardly rolls his eyes.

Knowing that's his cue, he speaks up, tone wry, "It is I, the Amazing Skull!"

Luce smiles even wider at that, especially when Reborn and Lal Mirch instantly scowl in disgust.

His playful smirk doesn't waver, even as the two of them size him up and then dismiss him completely.

As for the others... Verde doesn't look up from his notes, Fon only appears calm and considering, Skull hasn't suddenly transformed into money, so Viper is still apathetic, and Luce knows exactly what he's capable of and treats him accordingly.

"I've never heard of you before," Reborn says, suspiciously, pinning him with a patented Sasuke glare.

Skull has been dealing with those since his Academy days, and if they weren't enough to quell even pathetic, fan girl Sakura (for long), they're certainly not enough to faze him as he is now.

In response, he dons Sensei's patented crinkly-eye smile and admits cheerfully, "Maa, I'd never heard of you before I stepped into this room either."

He can tell that pisses Reborn off. His fingers twitch, almost unnoticeably, as if reaching for a weapon he must have hidden. The only other tell is more obvious: the pronounced frown on his face.

"Funny." Perhaps sensing talking to her will be easier on his temper, Reborn addresses Luce when he asks, "Is this... _person_ a civilian?"

Luce maintains her angelic aura, despite Reborn's prickly demeanor. "Technically, Skull could be considered a civilian," she allows after a nod from Skull.

The others have visible reactions to this, each of them more or less what he expected. Fon is curious, Verde takes the news in clinically, Viper actually seems a little interested, Lal Mirch is likely affronted at the idea of involving a civilian in their affairs, and Reborn has already decided Skull is the weakest of them all.

"Does he even know what he's getting into?" Lal demands, talking as if he isn't there. "This isn't a game."

Reborn's concerns are a little different. "Why is a civilian one of the Strongest Seven? He probably doesn't even know about Flames," he scoffs.

Skull barely refrains from rolling his eyes.

"My associate chose Skull the same way he chose all of you," she assures, and Skull would swear she's exasperated under that heavenly veneer. "If you'll recall, I said Skull was _technically_ a civilian. Whether he has connections to the Mafia or not, Skull is just as strong as the rest of you and just as deserving of his title."

...What is she getting at, defending him? They both know he can take care of himself, and it's not as if she's worried about his feelings.

He quirks a brow at her, and she gives him a meaningful look. Unbidden, Skull remembers their conversation not two hours ago.

 _"As Sakura, your temper led to no small amount of collateral damage," Luce begins, tactfully._

 _"That was as Sakura. Skull doesn't have a short temper," he reminds her._

 _"Nevertheless, some of the members will be antagonistic and provoke you. If you don't mind, I ask of you to find another way to vent your frustrations. The vision I had of this meeting... did not end well, to say the least."_

 _"...Very well."_

...

Damn. What's the point of his monstrous strength if he can't use it to knock sense into assholes? He's still wary of using genjutsu without verifying a few things - hopefully with Viper's help - and the rest of his arsenal is on par with his strength in terms of power.

He could subtly mess with him...?

"Your associate is an unknown to me, and I only trust my own judgement," Reborn counters. "If this 'Skull' didn't even know who I was until today, then he's civilian enough to matter. We're going on dangerous missions, right? He'll be a liability."

This Reborn guy is a real bastard, though.

And who does Skull know of who was annoying enough to successfully rile Asshole Sasuke up every time?

Not Naruto, no, he could never be that endearingly obnoxious.

He can, however, emulate his favorite sensei. (Sorry, Yamato-sensei!) Kakashi-sensei is, after all, a master of getting under peoples' skins.

If he can't (won't) be a world-renowned medic-nin better than Tsunade here, he might as well take up his other teacher's legacy and annoy the hell out of everyone he meets. Kakashi-sensei would be proud - and absolutely gleeful.

"Hey, you," Reborn calls, apparently getting nowhere with Luce. "Do you have anything to say for yourself? A Mafia boss is defending you, and you're just sitting there with that stupid smirk on your face."

Skull takes a slow sip of his tea, savoring the taste, allowing the silence to drag on just a little too long before he glances casually at Reborn and says, "Oh, were you saying something?"

A moment of incredulous quiet, then:

Fon huffs a laugh, Viper snorts, Verde sports an amused smirk, Luce looks like she regrets all of her life choices until this point, and Lal Mirch doesn't stop frowning, but maybe she was amused. A little. It's hard to tell, even for him.

Reborn, however, does not take it well. In less than a second, he has his gun out and a bullet heading straight for Skull's head.

Skull idly tilts his head to the side and asks, "Weren't you going to tell us about our super important mission, Luce? The Amazing Skull is quite busy, you know?"

The bullet almost grazes his cheek on its way into the wall. Almost. He thought it'd be more amusing if it came so close only to fail.

He's right.

Luce gives Reborn a disapproving frown, even as she answers, "Yes, Skull, I was just getting to that. If you could please not damage my personal cabin anymore than you already have, Reborn, I would appreciate it."

Reborn grits his teeth. He really looks like he wants to unload a whole round into Skull, but nevertheless, he tucks his gun away and settles back in his chair, brooding. Gathering information apparently trumps sating his anger.

 _Thank you, Kakashi-sensei, for your valuable expertise. Who knew suffering through your shenanigans would come in handy someday?_

Skull only withholds his own laughter because Luce turns her stern gaze on him. He's certainly not afraid of her, and he still doesn't trust her. But right now, she's his tentative ally, the only person in the world who knows who he used to be, and he doesn't want to burn that bridge while it's still useful. So he obliges.

Luce puts on her mega-watt smile and beams as she begins detailing what exactly the seven of them had been gathered for and how they were going to be spending the next few months.

Though it's been a while, Skull is used to mission briefings and team bonding activities, even if the latter had mostly occurred as a genin. (And look how that turned out.) Regardless, he understands the need for it, unlike Reborn, Verde, Viper, and Fon.

Lal Mirch seems resigned to it, and Skull's not surprised. Both of them are soldiers, and Lal likely has comrades she trusts with her life within the COMSUBIN. Armies don't really work if their soldiers can't even trust _each other_. Team building exercises would have to be common for her, especially since she's an instructor.

Reborn, like Asshole Sasuke, doesn't trust anyone but himself. Verde is a scientist of questionable scruples, and because of his research and inventions, he likely has to watch his back for betrayal and assassination attempts. No doubt the idea of bonding with coworkers is foreign to him. Viper will work with anyone so long as the pay is worthwhile, and they probably don't see the point in forcing bonds in what is essentially a business deal.

As for Fon, well, Skull's first impression of him had been that he was like Genma, but now he's beginning to wonder if Fon isn't more like Sai. Maybe Sai when he figured out how to smile genuinely. If the Chinese Triads are anything like Root... Well, that's just another thing to look into.

"You're not expecting us to stay in this cabin, are you?" Lal chimes in, tone conveying clearly what she thinks of that idea.

Skull agrees. The cabin is nice and ridiculously fancy - though given Luce is a mafia boss, that makes sense - but it's not big enough to house four people, much less seven.

Luce smiles, laughter in her eyes. "No. We simply chose this location for the initial contact. I've prepared one of my Family's remote bases for our extended stay."

"When are we expected to arrive at the base?" Fon speaks up, for the second time. "I have business to take care of before I can commit months of my time," he elaborates at Luce's questioning glance.

She tells them two weeks. "I understand the rest of you will have to rearrange your schedules for this, as well as prepare to be away for so long," she adds, a tad apologetically.

Fon nods, genial. "That will be enough time. Thank you."

"I will require a lab," Verde says - or rather, demands. The fact that he'd lose all interest in this experiment(?) were he denied one goes unsaid.

Luce is ready for him, though. "We chose this base with all of you in mind. Not only is there a fully-equipped lab, but there are several training rooms that have been designed to accommodate each of your preferred fighting methods." She smiles at each of them as she awaits more demands or protests.

She gets none. Skull is already making plans to cancel training and postpone shows. His life is about to get even more exciting, for better or worse.

He can't contain his giddy smile, even long after the meeting is over.

-o-

He was too busy scrutinizing his new "teammates" and then messing with Reborn to fully take in the situation, but during the two weeks before their long-term mission, Skull has plenty of time to dissect Luce's words and their underlying meanings and implications.

Thus, he's come to a few conclusions - of varying importance.

\- If he wants to fully imitate his sensei, he's going to have to pick up a few habits Sakura - and the rest of the village - had used to gripe about endlessly. It's for the purpose of annoying Asshole Sasu- uh, Reborn, though, so it's necessary.

Plus, he likes the idea of carrying Kakashi-sensei's memory with him in this way, especially when it would utterly please him. It's also a way of remembering pre-Madara-brainwashing Obito, if he thinks about it a certain way, which both of them would be happy about. At least, he hopes so.

\- The seven of them are not actually the seven strongest people in the world. He's not even sure how such a thing would be measured. By actual strength? Intelligence? Power? Their title says it all, though. They're just the strongest "selective seven." Seven people who were selected via unknown means and criteria.

One could argue that they're the strongest Flame Users of their respective types, but since Skull has never successfully harnessed his Cloud Flames, that can be ruled out. Or maybe it has to do with potential to use said Flames?

He doesn't know, but he's willing to find out.

\- They were selected and gathered together for a reason, and it's not because Luce's "associate" needed a super powerful team for some particularly difficult tasks. Luce already knows, of course, and she seems grimly determined to see it through.

Skull has seen the lengths people with that kind of determination go to.

It's the kind willing to subject the whole world to an illusion in order to put an end to all war. The kind that's willing to make sacrifices.

The only thing left to wonder, then, is whether Luce is sacrificing her life or theirs.

 _(He'd never thought to wonder whether she was sacrificing both.)_

-o-

Two weeks passes in a blur. Skull does one of his biggest shows yet, entirely spur of the moment, and still the tickets are sold out, and the stands overflowing.

Skull gets the same thrill out of his stunts and the cheers and enthusiasm as always, but there's a thrumming anticipation in his bones and deeper still. Every single cell is ready and waiting for more action, for more excitement. For more than this.

He'd never considered himself an adrenaline junkie Before, but his restlessness goes beyond that.

Pre-Tsunade Sakura had been reluctant to fight, only interested in her image of an ideal kunoichi - and how she could be the perfect wife for Sasuke - rather than putting it any effort into the physical aspects, and that had caused her no small amount of grief.

Post-Tsunade Sakura, though, thrived on the sheer power and grace in her every movement, loved being able to protect herself and her comrades with her own hands, and often sought out Ino, Hinata, and Tenten for spars because she never got tired of the feeling.

Here and now, Skull feels the same. Traveling the world soothed him somewhat, and he's been content with his stunts until now. Content isn't same as happy, though.

Maybe it's the shinobi in him, the seasoned fighter, the little girl turned soldier, cut down before she could retire on her own, turned civilian without being given a choice.

Maybe it's that she spent years training and studying and fighting to be on the same level as her teammates, chased after both of them hopelessly for years, always, always watched their backs from behind, and after she finally, _finally_ got there and stood next to them as equals, she had absolutely everything she ever cared about taken from her in a single moment.

Maybe, just maybe - he wants to be one of the strongest, for once. Unquestionably, undeniably the strongest.

For the little girl who tried desperately to protect her teammates in a forest of death and failed, who had to have one of _them_ save _her_...

For the little boy who dreamed of escaping parents who never understood him and never tried and a life that would never fit him...

For them, for himself, he wants this. He would risk his miraculous second life for this, and he has never wanted to die _less_.

When the two weeks are up, he is once again hours early and geared for a fight. Luce welcomes him with a warm smile and a knowing look.

-o-

What Giglio Nero considers a home base is apparently wildly different from Skull's own definition. Bases are usually fortified labyrinths with twisting hallways, secret passages, and hidden rooms meant to confuse and disorient any intruders. Only those stationed at the base know the correct paths, but even finding the entrance - or realizing a base is even there - is supremely difficult.

A Mafia base is an ostentatious, highly visible mansion. A mansion! Mist Flames probably conceal its presence from enemies (hopefully), but still, it seems like such a stupid risk to take. Just how cocky is this Family? Or is the entire Mafia underground like this? It makes the paranoid, pragmatic shinobi in him twitch.

Ugh, he's underestimating them again. There's probably a reason for... this, perhaps having to do with tradition or simply confidence in their security. Maybe a display of power? "We don't need to hide. You pose no threat." It could even involve their "mission" or the fact that the seven of them are supposedly some of the strongest in the world and can handle themselves.

Whatever the case may be, he knows how to set traps and seal rooms, so he's not worried for his own safety. Tsunade-shishou was not as accomplished in fuinjutsu as her teammates, but she knew some and passed that knowledge down to her student. Like everything his shishou taught him, he soaked it in and practiced it until he had it down perfectly.

The Hiraishin or sealing away the tailed beasts is far beyond him, even if he weren't a life and a world away, but he can manage simple storage seals, run of the mill explosive tags, and sealing his room to keep out anything with killing or harmful intent and - something he was able to tweak with a lot of time, effort, and explosions - any being without chakra.

The original seal had only worked by sensing chakra and keeping out those whose chakra signatures weren't keyed into it, making it utterly useless in a world without chakra. The new version has proved effective in keeping out the few crazed fans who have tried breaking into his hotel rooms and his annoyed manager who can never barge his way into Skull's room and force him to wake - the latter of which is always hilarious.

If only he could have kept out Tsunade-shishou or Kakashi-sensei when they decided to wake him up for training at ungodly hours of the morning. He laments the missed opportunity - and hours of precious sleep lost - and moves on. Thinking such things is always painful, no matter how long it's been, after all.

-o-

Much as he'd expected, his room is plush and fancy and way too expensive, but the bed, at least, is comfortable. He never spends much of his time in his room, which he knows is a trait shared by most shinobi - even lazy, naps-a-lot Shikamaru; he found nice shady spots outside to sleep in instead - so it's not that big of a deal.

His own personal garage is a bit of a surprise, but he's pleased to have his own space to store his favorite bike and perform maintenance on it when needed.

The training room is more in line with what he'd expected. Reinforced punching bags, weights, targets, wooden posts, and a whole host of other things greet him when he opens the door. It feels... strange. Nostalgic, even.

He changes into a tank top and shorts, setting aside the bodysuit for now, and goes on to try out all of his new equipment like a child with new toys.

Later, splayed out on the ground, drenched in sweat and muscles burning pleasantly from a familiar-unfamiliar workout, he thinks this might be the first time he's felt like an actual shinobi - like Sakura - since he got to this world.

He throws an arm over his eyes and lets out a choked breath. Despite the tears streaming silently down his face, however, he's smiling.

It's a very good feeling - and one he's dearly missed.

-o-

At breakfast the next morning, Reborn - through intimidation and threats - tries to make him into some kind of lackey.

Skull punches him through three walls and an unknown number of trees in the surrounding forest.

No one questions his right to be there after that.

* * *

 **End Notes: I couldn't make the style of the first chapter work with what I wanted to cover here, so sorry to anyone excited to see more of it! I'm still relying on my shoddy memory of the series for this, as well as fanfiction, so any mistakes are because of that. I'm calling it AU and moving on.  
**

 **As you can tell, I agreed that there's no way Skull would let anyone treat him like the Arcobaleno treated the original Skull - or like PTS-Sakura.**

 **Someone wondered whether Reborn and Lal Mirch would sense Skull's strength. They did, and I think that's what angered Reborn more than anything - that this supposed civilian who mouthed off to him _was_ strong. He sort of wanted to prove himself wrong? I guess - and there's the fact that Skull's a total unknown, too. Not having information on Skull likely irritated him. I actually like Reborn quite a bit, but he is undeniably cocky and mistrustful, even if rightfully so, and as you guys said, the parallels between him and Sasuke would strike a cord with Skull. **

**And I went over Lal Mirch's reasoning.**

 **Some Answers:**

 **\- Skull is genderfluid, meaning he feels he is both male and female. He doesn't have preferred pronouns, though, and mentally frequently switches between he/him and she/her, as evidenced by the text.**

 **\- You can call him whatever you want, but he chose the name Skull for himself. So that's what I'm going with.**

 **My own questions!**

 **\- Should I split this chapter into two? I could never find an ending I was satisfied with, and even now, I've got more written that didn't make the cut.**

 **\- I am awful at coming up with cool techniques! I'd love to hear your suggestions for Cloud-based attacks that would fit this Skull or ways the Cloud Flames could work with chakra. (have not decided whether they can mix yet) I've got my own ideas of course, but I would appreciate some help on that front - if you're willing! ;)**

 **\- Finally, please tell me what you thought of the chapter! I'm really nervous, haha.**


End file.
